


Build Me Up

by CupidStrikes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Consensual Kink, Dubious Consent, Handcuffs, M/M, Rape Roleplay, pre-agreed kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 22:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8030764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupidStrikes/pseuds/CupidStrikes
Summary: Weeks of planning, interrupted by a two-month stint doing 'survival training' or some bullshit, and finally the culmination of their shared agreement and Shiro can barely see for Keith above him.





	Build Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing pre-agreed/roleplay kink so constructive criticism is welcomed! Fluffy Sheith is incoming as I have far too many feels for them.
> 
> CW/TW - Rape/dub con themes, handcuffs, and very brief non-sexual violence.

Shiro is walking back to his room when he gets the feeling that he isn't alone. He slows his step and glances over his shoulder ever so slightly, makes it look natural and not at all like he's paranoid. It could easily be another cadet, studying late as he had been, or a patrolling sergeant or something. There were a thousand good reasons for someone else to be around but Shiro feels a thrill of fear run up his spine nonetheless.

 

He doesn't quicken his step. He keeps the same rhythmic click-click of his boots as he navigates the familiar corridors back to the residential wing of the Galaxy Garrison. He won't run. Won't let whomever is following know; they are definitely following him now as he has taken several detours and looped back onto himself to try and see if their steps peter off, but the steps, always a fraction of a second after his like a discordant echo, have stayed.

 

When he reaches his door Shiro takes a moment to examine the door for evidence of tampering. The lock is as shiny as it had been the day he moved in, the keyhole free of wear and tarnish, and the plate beside it with the room's number and occupant –  _ 114 Takashi Shiogane _ – is similarly untouched. He slides his key into the door and touches the pad of his index finger to the scanner beside it, takes the key out with his left hand as the scanner beeps, flashes green. The door sighs open, the sound oddly loud in the silence. This part of the Garrison is normally filled with muted background noise – the ebbing noise of TVs and conversation, the whirring and humming of the various machines and tech that make up the very building itself as well as everything within - now quiet and still. Shiro tries not to let it bother him as he steps into his room.

 

Shiro puts his books down onto his desk and that's when he realises he has left his notebook in the library. He glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. 

 

22:41. 

 

He has time before the library is locked up for the night and Keith won’t be mad if he’s a little late. He pockets his keys again and heads back into the corridor, making sure to reset the locks on his door before he retraces his steps. There is no trace of the noises he had heard before. The other person must have been going back to the dorms as well and being tailed was just a figment of his imagination and too many spy films. Shiro turns into the main hallway joining the Garrison's main building and the dormitories, and that's when something grabs him.

 

Shiro's reaction is automatic. He jabs his right elbow back and pushes away with his left foot, trying to pivot and dart away. The hands on him hold fast. A grunt of pain, and his elbow hits its target on the third try.

 

“You'll regret that.”

 

His voice is so close to his ear that Shiro feels the other's breath disturb his short hair. It surprises him long enough for the grip on his body to change, and then Shiro feels himself being pulled and his right arm being twisted behind his back and held there. His shock at the skill of the other man allows his assailant to do the same to his other arm and the  _ cli-chink! _ of the Garrison issue handcuffs locking around his wrists is obscenely loud in the cold air of the corridor. He struggles, but against the solid metal cuffs it's useless.

 

A hand on his bound wrists to guide him and Shiro is turned around to face back the way he had come. The walk to the nearest doorway seems to take an age, and when it slides open with barely a whisper of noise Shiro starts a little in surprise. It's one of the empty dorm rooms, one used on open days, and in the back of his consciousness Shiro remembers seeing it years ago when he first toured the place. The door closes behind them and the noise of the lock buzzing back into place wakes Shiro from his memory.

 

Light spills across the room from the lamp on the beside table, throwing great shadows onto the walls from the furniture, and as Shiro turns it catches on his assailants' eyes and makes them seem to glow yellow for an instant before his vision focuses enough to make out pupils, and the thin ring of iris around them.

 

“Why are you doing this?”

 

His voice is a little breathless from the struggle, and not quite as accusing as Shiro would have liked, but he glares at the other man and hopes it is enough. He steps into Shiro's personal space and puts a hand flat on his chest to push him down onto the bed and for a second Shiro is weightless in his free fall. The bed is a firm mass when he lands onto it, the frame barely creaking beneath his weight and he shifts a little to try and get more comfortable. The mattresses at the Garrison had always been unyielding and overly firm, but now against Shiro's skin in his nervous, hyper-alert state it felt like many tiny lumps pressing up into him at once.

 

Fingers run down his chest to his crotch, and Shiro tries to twist away when the top part of his uniform is pushed up over his stomach to give the other man access to his trousers. He looks up into the face of his attacker, but cannot make out more than his eyes, and that the scarf covering his nose and mouth is maroon or similarly coloured. A flash of red and white from the jacket he is wearing as he leans over. A hand on his cock chases those thoughts right out of his head, and Shiro squirms, muttering a protest as he kicks out, gasping when his ankle is grabbed and used as leverage for the other to get in close and press his clothed erection against Shiro's inner thigh. He ruts against Shiro like this for a few moments before pulling away and moving up Shiro's body until he is straddling his chest. The brocade and buttons dig into Shiro's skin where the man has settled on him, but he soon forgets the discomfort as the man takes his cock out and presses it against his lips. Shiro presses them together and looks up defiantly.

 

It wilts a little when the man laughs, tilting his head back and exposing a sliver of tanned skin where his scarf doesn't quite tuck into the collar of his shirt.

 

“Good boy,”

 

Shiro feels his body shiver involuntarily, his own cock twitching to life between his legs. Again, the other man's dick pokes at his lips and he resists the urge to lick them when it leaves a wet smear behind. He's doing well, he thinks, until fingers circle one of his nipples and pinch just hard enough to make him gasp and suddenly that cock is filling his mouth and pressing up against the back of his throat and Shiro breathes in too sharply and chokes on his next breath. He coughs, and at once the pressure in his mouth and on his chest is gone and gentle hands are touching his face, a calloused thumb rubbing his cheek slowly and when he opens his eyes Keith is watching him intently. The scarf has been pulled down to hang loosely from his neck and Shiro watches distractedly as his Adam's apple bobs with a swallow before Keith clears his throat slightly.

 

“You okay?”

 

He asks once he's sure he has Shiro's attention,

 

“I didn't mean to choke you, sorry. Still good?”

 

Keith watches Shiro shift and swallow to shift the memory of too much, and when his boyfriend smiles he leans in to kiss it right back off his lips. He pulls back when he feels a laugh vibrate through Shiro's body.

 

“Yeah, I'm good. Er, green, whatever, carry on.”

 

Keith huffs in amusement and kisses him again, one hand slipping down between Shiro's legs to his neglected cock. He gives him a few strokes, knowing just the right amount of pressure Shiro likes.

 

“Mmm, Shiro....”

 

“You're not supposed to be so gentle if you're forcing me, just saying,”

 

“Shut up, I-”

 

“Better,”

 

“Shiro I swear,”

 

Keith grunts when Shiro shifts and wraps his legs around his hips, none-too subtly pulling him closer. He reaches down and wriggles himself free, shifting a little bit and grabbing Shiro's cock again, his other hand going down to rub at the sensitive spot just behind his balls and he's rewarded when the bigger man curses and his hips arch up uselessly towards the touch.

 

“So sensitive,”

 

He smirks and moves his hand lower when Shiro's thighs finally release him and he whistles when he touches his boyfriend's entrance and finds him already slick and open.

 

“You kinky little shit, Shirogane,”

 

He looks up just in time to see a blush dusting Shiro's cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Keith shakes his head minutely, impressed, and this gives him the perfect in to resume their game. He slides two fingers into Shiro's body, watching his face as he moves his hand slowly.

 

“How's that, uh, you like that? The Garrison's golden boy likes getting tied up and fucked,”

 

Beneath his hands Shiro's body quivers and he bites his lip to try and silence a noise of pleasure. Keith loves it. Loves when Shiro gets worked up and yet still tries to keep quiet. It made it all the more satisfying to pull the noises out of him later.

 

Keith crooks his fingers inside Shiro and twists the angle ever so slightly to rub that sweet spot inside him that will make his boyfriend see stars. Shiro grunts out a moan, his hips shifting, and when his lip frees itself from his teeth, swollen and vivid red like a bruise, he looks down at Keith with lust-bright eyes and tries to pull away.

 

“No.....you're wrong.”

 

It's back on and Keith grins savagely into Shiro's knee as he cups one hand beneath it, kissing the cool skin there and then using it to pull Shiro closer, letting his leg fall over his shoulder. Shiro manages to blush, but when his knee knocks against Keith's head it's half-hearted and Keith laughs it off, pressing his fingers back inside harder and delighting in the reaction it sets off. Tilting his head back, Shiro worries his lip between his teeth in an attempt to silence the gasp that wants to break free and his entire body tensing for a second before he forces himself to relax.

 

Keith loves Shiro like this.

 

He presses an open-mouthed kiss to Shiro's inner thigh and bites down on the sensitive skin lightly. Sucking on the irritated flesh, he doesn't pull away until he is satisfied that the mark will stay. Something to remind Shiro of this moment for the next few weeks. Maybe it'll still be there when he takes off for Kerberos and-

 

Keith shakes his head, meets Shiro's questioning glance with a grin and takes his fingers out.

 

“Still green, it's cool.”

 

He reaches for the tube in his pocket, blowing a kiss at Shiro when his boyfriend mutters something under his breath about being overly prepared.

 

“Only for you, Golden Boy, you're gonna take me in nice and easy all the same though, aren't you?”

 

Shiro pinches his lips together, and for a second Keith wonders if he has overstepped a boundary and he's leaning back and ready to call it off when Shiro's leg curls tighter around him and a soft bark of laughter leaves him.

 

“What.”

 

Keith looks up at Shiro from where he has fallen onto his chest and he frowned, pushing away and sitting back on his heels, shaking his head as he finishes rubbing the cold lube all over his cock.

 

“I swear if this is one of those godawful puns I am tying you to this bed and leaving.”

 

Shiro presses his face into the pillow and snickers, shaking his head slightly and looking up at Keith with a smirk. He lets him stew for a further minute or two, the seconds stretching out between them marked only by two sets of laboured breathing. Distracting himself, Keith lets the tube in his and fall amongst the bunched up sheets and scoots forward until the head of his dick brushes up against the skin of Shiro's left buttock.

 

“You sound silly,”

 

Shiro tells him after a pause, and Keith raises an eyebrow, not reacting in any visible way. He lines his cock up and looks into Shiro's eyes with a little smile before he buries himself inside the other man, sheathing himself from tip to base in one fluid controlled movement.

 

Shiro screams.

 

Or he tries to, rather, the sound catching in his throat as he fights to inhale and exhale all at once because there is suddenly sensation everywhere and  _ Keith _ is everywhere and, fuck, he must have been reading up whilst Shiro was on mission because he does not remember Keith being this skilled or this intense before. Sure, it wasn't like either of them were experienced, and there wasn't a moment Shiro could say he had never not enjoyed (except maybe the incident with one of the receptacles for paper-based recyclable waste) but this was something else.

 

“Someone missed me,”

 

His words are breathless punctuated by too-hard stresses on the wrong syllables, like he's learning English for the first time again and his accent's all wrong for this part of the world, but Shiro thinks they came out just smug enough because there is a flush over Keith's cheeks and the tops of his ears that he isn't convinced is related to exertion or the rapidly increasing temperature in the room.

 

Keith doesn't reply, but he pulls out, almost to the tip, and when Shiro tenses a little bit in anticipation, he makes a deep sound in the back of his throat that ignites a bolt of arousal and  _ want _ through Shiro. He looks up at his boyfriend's face and it's his expression that is almost Shiro's undoing, all wide-eyed and top lip curled just enough that he can see a sliver of white teeth. He's so wrapped up in that, and wrapped up in just feeling and being in this moment, that Shiro doesn't notice Keith leaning in until their lips press together in a kiss that is more teeth than anything else.

 

It's the first few thrusts into a rhythm when Shiro realises he is well and truly fucked. Not just literally, and oh yes, yes that a thousand times, but he can barely think through the hot feeling of pleasure and lust that is threatening to singe the skin off his body. He feels himself twitch and shudder beneath Keith, and he's probably making a million embarrassing noises that he'll be teased mercilessly about later but that seem like so much white noise to him now. Weeks of planning, interrupted by a two-month stint doing 'survival training' or some bullshit, and finally the culmination of their shared agreement and Shiro can barely see for Keith above him. Solid and utterly unyielding. He's sure there would be comments if their relationship was known, and if it was known which position he was currently in, but Shiro couldn't care less, not least of at all at this moment when Keith is laying each nerve bare and making them sing. There isn't a damn thing in the whole universe that could tear them apart and Shiro knows this in this moment and it repeats in his mind like a prayer as he fights the handcuffs until he can wrap his bound arms around Keith's neck.

 

Shiro barely feels his own orgasm approach, so caught up in Keith's descent into his undoing. He feels the first tug of too much a fraction of a second too late to catch the half-startled plea of Keith's name and then the world around him is hot, too hot, as Keith leans over him and presses his face into the crook of Shiro's neck and Shiro hears his name being whispered over and over like a prayer as the rhythm of Keith's thrusts stutters and jerks out of sync. The next thrusts are deeper, rough with distraction and almost too much, but then Keith's hand is on his dick and Shiro falters at last, Keith's name on his lips and a blinding white flash behind his eyelids.

 

He feels more than hears Keith come just seconds later, and he can't help the breathless little giggle that escapes his throat when the younger man all but flops on top of him.

 

“Too much for you?”

 

The smugness of the jibe is weakened by how breathless and  _ ruined _ Shiro's voice is, and Keith moves his head to give him a little grin.

 

“Speak for yourself, Shiro,”

 

He sits up on one elbow and looks slowly down the long lie of Shiro's body to illustrate his point. Shiro looks  _ wrecked _ ; his lips kiss-swollen and bruised, come splattered over his stomach and heaving chest. Shiro smiles back sweetly and closes his eyes, lets out a long, slow breath.

 

“You gonna untie me now or what?”

 

Keith had forgotten about the handcuffs and he fumbles for the key in the pocket of his trousers, swearing when his sweaty fingers gather no purchase on the small piece of metal. Shiro is laughing when he finally returns, key successfully untangled and a few stray threads hanging from it still as he slides it into the lock and twists.

 

“It's jammed.”

 

Shiro forgets how to breathe for a moment and turns to look at Keith so quickly he nearly gives himself whiplash, and he scowls when he sees the smirk on his boyfriend's skin.

 

“Not funny.”

 

“Did you see your face?”

 

Keith snickers as he unlocks the cuffs and removes them carefully, tossing them aside to fall on the floor beside the bed. He rubs the red mark left on Shiro's wrists and tuts. There will be bruises there in the morning. Leaning down, he kisses one of the marks and looks up when he feels Shiro's eyes on him, his expression unreadable.

 

“What?”

 

“Having regrets?”

 

Keith shakes his head but continues kissing and rubbing the marks as if it might take back some of the hurt their little game had inflicted.

 

“I didn't think about this part.”

 

He admits, twisting his lips to one side and looking back up at Shiro.

 

“I did. I asked you to, didn't I? It's an improvement. I thought you'd go for some of the rope from the emergency packs. Less risky to steal.”

 

That makes Keith smile and he guides Shiro's arms around his neck again as he leans up to kiss him.

 

“Please. Rope would have fucked your wrists up totally.”

 

Shiro smiles into the kiss and rubs his hand up and down Keith's back.

 

“See? You did think about it.”

 

He reminds him, kissing Keith's cheek and then his temple before giving a light push with his hips.

 

“Now scoot, you're heavy.”

 

“I am not!”

 

Keith retreats out of Shiro's lap though and reaches for the rest of his fallen clothes, tossing a packet of tissues at Shiro before pulling his boxers back on. He turns around to grab his shoes and feels a warm, solid weight against his back. Leaning back against Shiro's chest, he leans up into the kiss he knows is coming.

 

“Love you.”

 

The words are murmured against his skin and Keith feels more than hears them, but he smiles and reaches back for one of Shiro's hands, threading their fingers together.

 

“You too,”

 

They part ways at the door, Shiro walking back to the library and doubling back on himself so they won't arrive back at the dorms together. In two weeks time, Keith will watch Shiro pack his bags for the two-year mission to Kerberos and will hear those words spoken more and more in the days leading up to the launch. Their moments together become sparser, more hurried, as Shiro has to spend more and more time in meetings, briefings, press conferences, and Keith waits, leaves notes in the little display dorm that has quickly become a sanctuary for them where they know they can steal a few precious minutes of quiet and each other.

 

Before Shiro leaves on the morning of the launch, he hugs Keith, mindful of the eyes on him as there is no way to sneak off now, pats his shoulder and winks, and when Keith retreats back into the little room long after the launch is over and the droves of spectators have dispersed, and finds a note tucked into one of the pillows.

 

_ Blindfold next time? _


End file.
